The drive to the Lake Arbor Police Station took forever. Luke wouldn’t truly believe Joy was safe until he saw her for himself. “What was I thinking, ignoring the dangers, putting Joy’s life at risk for an article in a newspaper?”

“You were trying to fight for justice, for a woman who couldn’t help herself,” Jasmine said quietly.

“Well, I could’ve helped her in some other way. I was selfish. Wanting to prove myself as some kind of warrior with a pen for a weapon.”

Well, no more. After he made sure Joy and Jasmine were safe, he’d make some changes. They both deserved more. They deserved to be safe.

“This was why Samantha—Joy’s mother—didn’t trust me to be a good father,” Luke said, ramming his hand against the steering wheel. “She said I was addicted to the adrenaline rush. She was right.”

“If that were really true, you’d still be overseas and your mother would be taking care of Joy. You love her. You’d do anything for her. Right?”

“Hell, yes. From the moment I got that call in the middle of the night from Arizona Child Protective Services about Samantha’s accident I vowed I’d keep Joy safe. Great job I’m doing.”

“This isn’t your fault.”

“My investigation started it off. That’s the sort of thing that worried Samantha. When I returned to Afghanistan hell-bent on making things right for Frank and my unit, she begged me to stay, to give up the dangerous jobs, and let go of what I couldn’t change. Ironic, huh? We’re not so different after all—fighting the past.”

“Could you have stayed in Denver?”

“If I’d asked, probably. But I wanted revenge for the ambush. I couldn’t let my unit down. I made it out alive, and they didn’t. I had to prove my survival had a purpose. Samantha wanted me to love her. She wanted a future, to be a family.”

“She was already pregnant,” Jazz surmised.

“I didn’t know, and by the time I got back, she’d left. I lost Joy’s first year of life. I won’t chance losing her again.”

“I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

He clasped Jasmine’s hand in his, but he’d never ask her to put herself out there. His investigation had dragged her life into chaos, and somehow he had to fix it, for Jasmine, and for Joy.

Luke’s SUV careened into the parking lot. Jasmine at his side, he ran through the automated doors leading into the precinct. He skidded to a halt at the sight of his pixie daughter holding court with a bunch of guys in uniforms. He grasped a chair to steady himself. That little girl could scare him like no insurgent ever could.

Joy sat on a large desk behind the main police counter, her freckled face wreathed in smiles as she took in every detail. Four police officers catered to her every need, all the while their steady hands nearby in case she teetered off her perch.

“Joy.” Her name croaked out of him.

Her grin, if possible, widened, and her eyes twinkled. “Daddy. Come meet my new friends. They put the siren on for me.”

For the first time since the mechanized voice had created a nightmare vision in his mind, Luke could breathe again. In two strides he reached her, scooped her into his arms, and held her tight.

He cleared his throat and ran his hands over each limb, assuring himself that she really was all right.

His mother touched his shoulder, and he reached out and pulled her to him too. Her body trembled. He knew her fear, understood the terror. He dropped a kiss on her forehead then whispered, “Thank you for protecting her.”

Anna’s eyes shone bright, but she wiped any sign away and turned to Jazz to squeeze her arm, pulling her into the embrace.

For a moment, Luke simply let himself take in the fact that Joy and his mother were safe, that Jasmine was here. Soon, though, Joy kicked her legs against his body and squirmed in his arms.

She’d obviously had enough of being squeezed as if he were holding on for dear life, but by God, he was. Stemming a flood of emotion he couldn’t afford, he gave his mother a reassuring smile then knelt down with Joy until her feet touched the floor.

She grinned up at him. “The policemen let me and Gamma ride in their car. It was fast and loud.”

He cupped her face, needing to touch her again. “I’m glad you had fun, munchkin.”

Joy’s attention shifted to his side and her expression brightened, her face beaming. “You brought Rap…Rap…punzel with you. Hi.”

Jasmine knelt beside Luke, and her tremulous hand fingered a curl of Joy’s hair. “Hello, Joy. I brought someone who missed you.”

From behind her back, Jasmine drew out the stuffed clown fish.

“Hero!” Joy squealed and grabbed the soft fish to her, twisting her small body to and fro in hugs. Then she stopped, her little face turning serious. “Are you sure you’re not gonna need him anymore?”

“Positive.” Jasmine smiled at Joy. “He took good care of me, but I’ll be fine now. I think he wants to come home.”

Joy launched herself at Jasmine and hugged her tight.

Did Jasmine understand how much it meant to Luke that his daughter clung to her? The most terrifying thing in the world was being a single dad, but for this moment he didn’t feel quite so alone.

Joy pulled back from the hug and tugged at Jasmine’s hair. “I’m glad you came.” Her voice lowered to a childish whisper that Luke could easily hear. “I think I saw the wicked witch. She gave me a ball. She was nice at first, but then her eyes got scary.”

The wicked witch?

A woman? Tower’s accomplice? If so, it was a smart move. With all the mothers in the park, a woman would barely be noticed.

“I know I shouldn’t have taken the ball, Daddy.”

“You’re right. We don’t take presents from strangers. Next time, stay close to Gamma.” Luke picked Joy up, sitting her on the officer’s desk.

She held on to Hero for dear life and buried her face into the soft toy. “We were playing ‘Seek and Go Hide.’ I was hiding when I saw the witch’s ball.”

Luke lifted her chin up and looked into his daughter’s eyes, his heart thudding at how close he’d come to something happening to her. He reached for Jasmine’s hand. “Joy, what did the wicked witch say?”

“She told me I could keep the ball. At first I liked her, but then her face got mean. She turned into the wicked witch and I ran away. But I kept the ball, even though she wrote on it.”

“Where’s the ball now?”

Joy looked around. “I gave it to him.” She grinned at the gray-haired officer behind the desk. “I like him. He gave me a donut.”

Luke caught Jasmine’s gaze, and she nodded and went behind Joy to the cop’s desk. When the cop pulled out an evidence bag containing the ball, Jasmine’s face turned ashen. She tilted the ball toward Luke so he could read the message written there.

Is Jane worth her life?

Cold, dark anger froze Luke from the inside. The bitch had threatened his daughter. He struggled to clear away the fury for Joy’s sake and took her small hands in his. “Munchkin, can you tell us what the wicked witch looked like?”

The large cap on her head fell down past Joy’s nose. She shoved at it until she’d pushed it back up. She shrugged. “Her hair was red. Like my dress.”

Slowly, patiently, Luke pieced together a description of the woman from Joy. His daughter’s mind could be such a puzzle, but little by little he created a picture of who they were after.

“The description matches the woman who came to the precinct with Tower the other day,” Jasmine said. “She’s obviously involved in much more than warming his bed or being a simple distraction.”

Luke’s gaze kept wandering back to Joy and his mother. If anything happened to either one of them…Then he took in Jasmine’s tense features. If anything happened to her and he could’ve done something to stop it, he would never forgive himself. “Tower won’t get away with this. He brought a crazy woman in contact with my daughter. He’ll wish he’d never started down this path.”

“You should get Joy away from here, someplace safe. Post a guard to look after Gabe in the hospital.” Jasmine’s eyes went flat. “Tower’s the key. I’ll force him to identify the redhead.”

“No. It’s too dangerous. You’re in their sights already. No telling how far they’d go if they’re cornered.”

“I’ll have backup. Sarge and Wexler will have to listen to me now. The entire SWAT team saw the woman with Tower. She’s threatened a three-year-old girl. They’ll have to bring Tower in for questioning. Once we get him, we’ll have a good lead on the woman.”

An awkward cough dragged them apart. “Sorry to interrupt, but Joy is asking for you, Mr. Montgomery,” the cop said. “Also, the captain wants to know if you’d be willing to let Joy work with a sketch artist.”

Luke shot a quick glance at the daughter he’d sworn to protect. “I’m taking her out of town before anything else happens. If you can get someone over here now, and if I can be there with her, then you can try. But she’s only three.”

“One of our sketch artists specializes in working with children. Don’t worry. She’ll make it seem like a game. I’ll call her in.”

The officer left to make the arrangements, and Luke took Jasmine’s hands in his. “Come with us. I can protect you.”

“We both have a job, Luke. You’re a father. I’m the law. You do your job. Let me do mine.”

He knew that look on her face well. She’d already decided to go headfirst after Tower. Probably alone. Oh, she’d get help. After she’d found him. Well, Luke wouldn’t let her put herself at risk. She might think she’d won this battle, but as soon as Joy was safe, Luke would be there for Jasmine. Before she got herself killed.

A park could hide an abundance of sins. The woman merged into the nighttime shadows along the Apex Park jogging path. Over the nests of piñon trees, an apartment building was visible. Tower was due in half an hour. Tonight he’d experience a show he’d never forget.

Smiling, she pulled her newly dyed blond hair back then adjusted the Arvada Police Academy sweats. She wandered into the open and, keeping her face averted, did a series of calf stretches, attracting the attention of some late-night joggers. A few even waved, as if they recognized her.

Perfect. The pursuit of revenge was oh so sweet.

She took off in a measured jog and passed one or two courageous souls who were willing to brave the park at night. Before long, she’d rounded the path and said a few words to a slow-paced elderly couple. They would remember the woman who’d taken the clip from her long blond hair and let it swing down her back. The woman who’d bent over and displayed the outline of her curves even beneath those sweats. The old man had practically been drooling.

She glanced at her watch. Tower would be here soon. She slipped back into the grove and waited. She watched him walk toward the meeting place and exhilaration filled her.

“You here, Red?” Anger tinged Tower’s voice. “What the hell is going on? I had a chance to bring that bitch down legally, and now I’m being pulled in for questioning. You better have a damn good explanation and even better evidence to bring Jazz Parker down.”

Silently she eased up behind him. “You’re going to have to think of a new nickname for me. ‘Red’ isn’t going to cut it anymore.”

Tower whirled around and glared at her, then took in her blond hair and sweats. “Holy…you look like Jazz.”

She took his hand and slid it up under her sweatshirt until he cupped her breast. “I know. I thought I’d give you your darkest fantasy. You’re screwing her at work, but tonight you can pretend you’re screwing her right here.”

He pulled his hand free. “You’re sick. You know that?”

She slid her hand down the front of his pants and smiled as he sucked in a breath. “No, lover. I’m just horny and in the mood for some games.”

She backed into the shadows and beckoned him to follow. She forced her voice to remain low and husky. “Wouldn’t you like to give her everything she deserves? Take her hard and fast…and rough as you like?”

After stepping back farther, she slid the sweatpants down and kicked them away. The sweatshirt skimmed the top of her thighs. She leaned back against a large boulder and smiled. “I’m waiting.”

Tower cursed and stayed on the now-deserted path. Was he really going to pass this up? He looked around and finally came to her in the small thicket. He pressed his lower body against hers then slid his hands up under the sweatshirt to grab her breasts. His touch was much rougher now, and she fought not to wince. His eyes were dark and intense, full of lust. Oh, yeah, sex was definitely on his brain.

“You like me like this?” she asked, cupping him, molding him, rendering him her slave. “Looking like her?” She squeezed and released. “Do you want to teach her a lesson? Do you want to—” She whispered crude words in his ear, and he jolted.

“You are so hot,” he choked, groping her, running his hands all over her.

She shuddered. She hated being touched, much less doing the touching, but justice required sacrifice.

Tower put his hand behind her neck and yanked her toward him, chest to breast, hip to hip. He clamped his wet mouth on hers, thrusting his tongue against her teeth. She kissed him back, making him believe she loved his disgusting tongue down her throat.

“Man, I knew the assignment to set up Jazz for the corruption charge would be fun, but not this much. It was easy. I’m IA. I can access most anything in the office, and once I discovered her background investigation file on her name change, I knew she was the perfect stooge. Set up doubt. Plant evidence. Kill her. Blame her. Then you came along. You gave me more. You made it easy. Until now.”

She squeezed him and he winced, eyes glazed with lust.

“You really like it rough, don’t you?” He pinched her nipple, and she forced a moan of pleasure when all she wanted to do was retrieve the crowbar hidden in her bag and end this.

“Let’s find a room. Now.” He thrust his erection toward her and she rubbed him again. He swelled against her hand.

“I can’t wait,” she whispered. “Let’s do it here.”

She turned away from him and leaned over the boulder, offering him a tantalizing view of her ass. “Come on. Pretend I’m her. Give her everything she deserves.”

“You’re insane, but I don’t even care,” he moaned.

“Then do it. Right here. Right now.”

He swore, his breath coming in uneven gasps. “Hard and fast, huh, babe? You got it.”

He moved behind her and shoved the sweatshirt up over her hips, then fumbled with his zipper and slid his pants down around his knees. “It’s gonna be good for you. I’m big, and I’m ready.”

He clasped her bare hips and kneaded the flesh she’d offered to him. She winced at his rough touch but gulped down the nausea. Lord spare her from men who thought they could make her want them. At least soon she would feel his touch no more.

“It’s going to be very good.” She slipped her hand into her hidden bag and grasped the crowbar. She shifted and swung the weapon at his head. Metal connected with bone, the sound sweet and wonderful.

Blood spattered across the sweatshirt and the grass beyond. He crashed to the ground, stunned and barely conscious. Smiling, she stared at the body lying face down among the pine needles.

“Was it good for you too, lover? I certainly enjoyed it.”

She slipped Jane’s sweatpants back on then turned to Tower. He’d started to stir, moaning. “Sorry, Deputy, but I have justice to serve, and for that I need a corpse.”

She smashed the crowbar hard on his skull to finish the job. Again and again and again.

Her breathing came fast and quick as sobs mixed with curses. He. Would. Never. Touch. Her. Again.

She pummeled his body with the metal until her arms lost their strength. She looked down at him. Good. He could still be identified. Just barely, but that’s all that mattered. Her own body throbbed with satisfaction.

“Soon,” she whispered. “Soon, Mama, justice will be ours.”

The night lights of Denver glared off Jazz’s eyes as she bounced in the loaner truck. Luke’s SUV had been more comfortable, but it hadn’t seemed right to keep his vehicle. The clunker was more her style anyway. And its battered body matched her mood.

Wexler had invited Tower in for a nice interview all right. Tomorrow morning. She knew the detective didn’t completely believe her theory. Twelve hours gave Tower—and his accomplice—way too much time to come up with an alibi. Jazz intended to corner Tower tonight and get his girlfriend’s name, no matter what. For Joy’s sake.

She gripped the steering wheel, her focus keen. First she had to find him.

She’d scoured the station house, the gym, his apartment, a few bars he’d been known to drop some bucks in. The last time anyone had spoken with him, he’d mentioned a hot date. With the redhead no doubt. The last sighting had been hours ago. Since then, nothing.

Jazz glanced at her watch. Ten p.m. Shift change at the precinct. Maybe one of the grave-shifters knew where he’d gone. If she had to, she’d bunk in front of Tower’s apartment until he showed.

Sirens blared behind her and she pulled over to allow two fire trucks to pass. Jazz hung a left and followed the engines to see if she could help. Several sets of emergency lights flashed a few blocks down. Her gut clenched. They were very close to her place. This couldn’t be happening. Not again.

Smoke billowed into the sky. She drove closer. The orange flames engulfed the upper floor of her building. “No!”

Jazz whipped the truck to the curb, pulled the keys from the ignition, and jumped out. Had everyone escaped the blaze? She raced down the street and held up her badge to the uniforms cordoning off the scene surrounding the conflagration. Firefighters scrambled to secure hoses, and ladders lifted high into the sky, but red licks of flame raged from the third-floor windows. The old building had gone up like dry tinder.

She shoved through the chaos until she reached the fire command post and flashed the badge clipped to her shirt. “I live here. What happened?”

A cop frowned. “According to the witnesses, it looks like it started in the corner apartment on the third floor. A witness thought he smelled gasoline.”

Her place. Her knees quivered, and she locked them in place. Someone had torched her place. Her neighbors had lost everything. Because of her. Unable to avert her gaze from the crackling inferno, she simply stared, bewildered. Everything she touched she destroyed sooner or later.

“Jasmine!” Luke’s voice roared over the crowd. He rushed to her and dragged her into his arms. He ran his hands up and down her back, as if convincing himself she was in one piece. Shoving his fingers through her hair, he fastened his lips to hers in a kiss of desperation. She clung to him, ashamed of her relief at his presence.

He hugged her close and kissed her forehead. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Why? I thought you were leaving with Joy.” Jazz pulled back. “What are you doing here?”

“Nick took Mom and Joy to our cabin in the mountains. They’re safe. I’m here to watch your back.”

“Luke, your place is with your family. I can handle finding out who came after Joy.”

“No way. Look behind you. This just escalated to a new level. I’d wager a year’s salary it’s arson. There is no way I’m leaving you alone.”

She should push him away. She couldn’t let him see how much it meant to her that he was here. “Someone said they smelled an accelerant.”

“Not a surprise.”

A crash reverberated behind them and they turned toward the fire. A side wall had collapsed. Jasmine’s heart broke a little as the life she’d known since she was sixteen collapsed. Mr. Peterson’s apartment was the first place she’d ever felt truly safe and secure. Not a home exactly, but certainly a haven. Now it was gone.

Wexler emerged from the crowd of gawkers, his face grim. “I should’ve known you two would be here. How long have you been on site?”

“Five minutes maybe,” Jazz said.

Wexler pulled out his notebook. “Were either of you in Apex Park or Heritage Square in the last few hours?”

“What’s going on?” The tension in Wexler’s back and shoulders, the aggressiveness of his posture set Jazz off. She didn’t like anything about the detective’s demeanor.

“Answer my question,” he rasped.

Dark apprehension flooded Jazz. “I was out looking for Tower to ask him some questions. I stopped in a few places, but never found him. Why the interrogation?”

Wexler turned to Luke. “What about you?”

“After the threat against my daughter, I packed her up and got her out of town. Then I heard about the fire and high-tailed it over here.”

The detective swore, sending Jazz a pointed glance. “So you have no alibi.” He turned to Luke. “And you threatened Tower directly in front of me a few hours ago. Are you two trying to get arrested?”

“What’s going on?” Jazz said.

Wexler shifted into an official stance. “Brian Tower is dead. He was murdered on one of the jogging trails nearby. This apartment building is visible from the crime scene.”

Jazz whirled to look at Apex Park. Sure enough, search lights glowed among the piñons and willows.

Wexler stepped forward. “With the bad blood between the two of you and Tower…I’m taking you both in for questioning. Let’s go.”